


you belong on this couch (but not with her)

by smaugthedesolator



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3880693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaugthedesolator/pseuds/smaugthedesolator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I keep walking in on you making out with my roommate</p><p>OR</p><p>Lexa develops a bad habit on walking in on her roommate with a particular blonde.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was raining. Of course it was raining. The _one_ day that she forgot her umbrella it was raining. The only thing Lexa was looking forward to was a hot shower. She fumbled with her keys under the porch light before letting herself into her building. Her shoes left squeaks on the cheap linoleum with every step she took up the stairs. She already knew she looked like a drowned rat… but with every step she repeated the words: _Hot. Shower. Hot. Shower._

Lexa pushed on the door to her apartment before attempting to fish out her keys again. And… she was right. She’d have to have a talk with Anya about leaving the door unlocked. Lex stared at the floor while she dropped her bag and took her shoes off. A brown belt in karate was not a reason to leave the door unlocked. Krav maga, maybe. But Anya wasn’t taking krav ma--

Oh. Thought process thoroughly disrupted.

“Anya.” Lexa coughed out the name in an effort to get the attention of the two bodies currently on her couch.

Anya let her head fall back on the couch, her eyes boring into Lexa as though she’d interrupted some sort of masterpiece. At least the girl on top of her had the wherewithal to look embarrassed. An awkward splay of limbs and a few grunts later, and the stranger was getting her shoes on, apologizing under her breath. Her hair covered her face, but knowing Anya she was probably hot.

Lexa just stared at Anya for a long moment before she excused herself. “Next time stay in your room. Then the girl won’t have to leave.” Finally she could have that shower.

\------------------------

Needless to say, Anya wasn’t fantastic at following house rules. Because not a week later, Lexa left her room only to find Anya pinning that same girl against the bathroom door. She had to hand it to the blonde, Anya rarely brought the same girl back more than once.

Lexa ran her hand through her hair. “Seriously?” Anya pulled away at the sound of Lexa’s voice and finally Lexa got a good look at the blonde’s face. “ _Seriously?_ ” Clarke Griffin. The same Clarke Griffin who Lexa had been pretty sure was dating some guy from the art club. What was his name? Din? Fish? Quinn? Or was that old news...  What that last year? The year before? Lexa had been trying purposefully NOT to keep up with Clarke’s affairs. Anya’s suggestion, actually.

Her roommate was unapologetic though. Not a care in the world. “We were making our way over there, okay?” Anya grabbed her door handle and made a gallant motion to usher Clarke into her room.

Clarke, who once again had the courtesy to appear embarrassed before she disappeared into Anya’s room. Lexa would have heard the hushed conversation if she hadn’t immediately gone to the kitchen to refill her water like she’d intended in the first place.

\------------------------

It wasn’t embarrassment. Not in the way Lexa was thinking, at least. Clarke shut the door behind her and turned round on Anya. “You didn’t tell me you lived with Lexa.” She hissed out the name like it was a state secret.

Anya shrugged. “It’s not like we do much talking.” She reached out to grab Clarke’s hand and lazily pulled her closer to finish what they’d started. “Don’t worry about it. She’s cool.”

Clarke wasn’t so sure.

\------------------------

There was something to be said for meaningless hookups, and Clarke was ultimately living for it after what had happened with Finn. Anya was a distraction… nothing more. Just something to pass the time until she felt that she could properly move on. Although the real distraction was Anya’s roommate. Anya’s roommate with terrible timing. Anya’s tall, dark and studious roommate. Anya’s tall, dark roommate with terrible timing with absolutely amazing hair that Clarke would much rather be running her fingers through right now instead of...

But like she knew: Anya was a distraction. Only now she was a distraction at her house. Away from where Anya’s tall, dark roommate with terrible timing, gorgeous hair and looks that could kill could disturb her distraction.

“Stop thinking.” Anya was on top of Clarke, kissing her neck and collarbone when the door opened.

“Sorry. I thought this was the bathro--” The voice stopped when it realized what it had interrupted.

“Are you fucking kidding me.” Anya rolled over onto Clarke’s bed and put her hands over her eyes.

Clarke pushed herself up onto her elbows. “... Lex… Lexa? What are you doing here?”

“Working with Raven on a project. Sorry. Continue.. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Again.” Anya’s low grumble of the word punctuated the closing of the door.

\------------------------

Anya didn’t get home until later that night, and Lexa was already sitting at the couch watching TV. Something stupid, probably. Anya kicked her shoes off and grabbed the remote to turn it off. “How the fuck do you keep doing that. Seriously.”

Lexa stared at the blank TV, silent.

“You have never walked in on me this many times ever.”

Silence.

“I mean… sure. Yeah. The first two times were probably my fault. But now it’s just comical.” Anya laughed softly. “At ease, Commander. I can’t have scarred you that much. You know I bring girls back.”

Lexa’s jaw tightened and she reached for the remote. “Could you maybe stop bringing that girl back?” She turned the TV back on.

“No. Wait.” Anya shifted on the couch and gave half of an effort to get the remote back. “Lexa. Is this about Clarke?”

Lexa raised a brow, but didn’t turn away from the TV.

Anya settled into the couch and stared at the TV. “She’s a good artist, you know.” She was talking over some Friends rerun, but Lexa was still annoyed. “If you’d been in a position to look around when you barged in on us in her room… she has all these drawings and stuff taped up.”

Lexa’s jaw started to hurt from how tightly she had it clenched. She knew what Anya was doing.

“You know, she’s pretty good. She let me look through her notebook. Full of portraits.” Anya started picking at her nails. Lexa was impossible and making her crack was the only way to get anything out of her. “Mostly classmates. You’re in there. You should ask to see it sometime.”

Lexa stood abruptly. She turned off the TV and stalked off to her room to the sound of Anya calling after her. “I’ll stop bringing her back when you admit you wish it was you between her legs.”

Lexa’s door slammed shut.

\------------------------

Two weeks later Clarke was back at Lexa and Anya’s apartment. Eating, this time and bonding over some stupid commercial that had been on TV too many times in the past hour. They’d stopped making out after Anya had had that conversation with Lexa. If anyone could even call Lexa’s silence a conversation. (Anya could.) Actually, when they weren’t making out, Clarke was actually a pretty decent friend. A much better friend than a benefit, actually.

Lexa rapped on the wall next to her bedroom door loudly and covered her eyes. “I am leaving my room now. Please cease and desist for the time being.” While she edged her way into the kitchen, Lexa missed the roll of Anya’s eyes and the way Clarke watched her.

“We’re not doing anything. At ease, comm-”

“Don’t call me that.” Lexa dropped her hand away from her eyes when she got into the kitchen. Clarke had obviously dropped all of her things before they had gone off to do who knows what on her couch. Lexa pulled out the bread and the peanut butter, determined to ignore the sketchbook sitting on her kitchen table.

Her table. Where she ate. In her apartment. Lexa set her ingredients down on the counter gently and opened the book. She was owed a peek at something nice after what Anya and Clarke had been putting her through. And it was art. It was meant to be seen.

A few minutes later Lexa emerged from the kitchen with a sandwich in hand and a strange look on her face. “We could do something… for old times? It must be weird for you not to walk in on us in a compromising position.” Anya made a move to pull Clarke closer, but Clarke slapped her hand away, blue eyes never leaving Lexa’s features.

“Thanks but no thanks.” If Anya didn’t know any better, she’d be sure that Lexa just always looked like a lowkey Jay Leno with the way her jaw was always clenched.

“We’re just friends!” Anya let her words follow her roommate back to her room while she turned her attention back to the TV. Shouting after Lexa’s bedroom door was becoming almost as much of a habit as Lexa walking in on her.

\------------------------

Later, Clarke was still on the couch while Anya was in the shower. She was huddled in the corner with her sketchbook when Lexa left her room again. Lexa dropped her plate on the kitchen counter and grabbed two glasses of water. She set one near Clarke and took the other to her own end of the couch and turned on the TV. The sound of rustling paper registered in Lexa’s mind, but she tried to ignore what that might mean.

It was a long eight minutes between commercials before Lexa actually spoke. “Are you sketching out a new picture of me or editing an old one?” The sound of the pencil on the page stopped abruptly. “It’s a new scene now… You must be tired of drawing me in class.”

“Did you… Did you look?” Lexa knew that Clarke didn’t need to hear her say anything, the red flush of her cheeks told her that Clarke already knew the answer.

“I saw it in the kitchen.” She could apologize, but her peeking was almost as much of an invasion of privacy as Clarke drawing her without her permission for as long as she had been. And yet, however confused she was, Lexa was also pleased that Clarke had been paying attention to her. “Is there anything other than landscapes and me?"

Clarke barely stopped herself from shaking her head in response. “I guess I just like looking at you.” Her voice was as small as that admission was large and Lexa hooked onto it immediately.

“If you…” And here she had to hope she wasn’t making too big of a leap. “If you like me…?” She paused to take in Clarke’s reaction. Confirmation. “If you like me, then why do you keep coming over to make out with my roommate?”

“That’s not fair.” Clarke closed her book, pencil marking her place. “We haven’t done that in...” She stopped herself. “Not the point.”

“So what is the point? Is this what you do when you like someone, Clarke?” Her tongue clicked out Clarke’s name. She shouldn’t be annoyed. She should be flattered. Flattered that someone actually did see through her idiotic veneer and managed to feel anything for her.

“I didn’t know she was your roommate.” Clarke put her sketchbook down on the table. She was silent for a long time before she spoke again. “Maybe if you were more responsive to flirting I would have ended up back here with you like I wanted to.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well some people asked for a sequel and I wasn't going to do it but then I thought of... something. And here it is. I hope you like it, cause I do.

Nothing really changed after Clarke put Lexa in her place. The “Oh” that seemed to resonate through the apartment after the admission left Lexa feeling out of her depth. Anya had already moved on. She was bringing home a boy now, (Bo.. Bal… Bellamy something? It was a stupid name) and they at least had the decency to keep it to her room. And Clarke still came over to sketch and watch TV. On the other end of the couch. 

She seemed to belong there. 

They often worked in silence, with only the TV’s dull noise and the scratch of Clarke’s pencil against her workbook to keep any residual sounds from leaking out of Anya’s room while they worked on their own separate projects. But it was the days that the silence broke that were the most interesting. Lexa learned a lot about Clarke on those days.

She learned that Clarke liked green, but she missed the way Clarke looked her in the eye when she said it. And she loved spaghetti. And dogs. And for some ungodly reason she loved the rain. (She joked that she liked to remember that first night in the apartment, when Lexa walked in soaking wet, but she always avoided mentioning just what exactly she had been doing in the apartment at the time.) It was more than just favourites though. Clarke told Lexa about her art, and what she hoped to do with it after graduation. She was taking pre-med classes to appease her mom, but she was really just there to help her anatomy knowledge because there’s nothing like first hand experience.

But the most interesting things that Lexa learned about Clarke were the things that Clarke didn’t tell her. Like the way Clarke snuck glances at Lexa over her sketchbook when she thought Lexa wasn’t paying attention. Even though Lexa had made it clear that it was completely fine if Clarke wanted to draw her. She was the only other living thing in the room, after all. Clarke didn’t have to sneak around. 

Or the way Clarke chewed on the end of her pencil when she was deep in thought, staring at a sketch. Lexa frequently snuck her own glances at the blonde. It was hard not to wish that that the small ministrations of Clarke’s mouth on the pencil might be directed toward her instead of the potential lead hazard. Lexa often suppressed these feelings. They were friends. There was that awkward bit at the start of their friendship, but Lexa had already ruined one too many friendships with something as absurd as feelings, and she would never let that happen again. 

Even though every move Clarke made, however small, seemed to resonate through the material of that damned couch into Lexa’s mind. Which made it very hard to work. 

Lexa somehow managed to tell Clarke things too. When Lexa told Clarke she liked blue, her face felt hot and her eyes fell to the ground. She liked earth tones... but it was impossible not to like blue when looking at Clarke’s eyes. Less embarrassingly, Lexa asked Clarke for her opinion on her essays and reports for class, which is exactly what they were doing now. 

“I don’t see how Hobbes could possibly be anyone’s favourite philosopher.” Clarke folded the corner of Lexa’s paper absentmindedly. Lexa hated it, but she had started printing out Clarke’s copies onto scrap paper to save herself a little bit of anxiety. “The assignment was meant to be about which philosophy spoke to you most and you chose ‘Life is short, nasty and brutish?”

Lexa shrugged. “I like Hobbes. And you’re short and brutish.” Lexa’s lips just barely curved up into a smile.“So what’s to say society isn’t?” 

Clarke shot her a look. “You’re like an inch taller than me.” Clarke flipped through to the third page and sighed. “Well it’s a good paper. And I haven’t taken enough philosophy courses to be able to argue with you. You have a spelling mistake here though.” Clarke circled it with the red pen Lexa had given her. “And I do have a question about one thing.” She extended her hand to give the paper back to Lexa. 

Lexa took the paper and checked the third page for Clarke’s annotation. She had been right. A typo. Lexa felt personally victimized by her own computer’s spell check for not getting that in the first place. “Now I have to check this whole thing again for typos.” Lexa sighed. It wouldn’t take long, but she would prefer that her computer cooperate. “One minute.”

Lexa put the paper down on the cushion and disappeared into her room to get her laptop. Because obviously it couldn’t wait. Lexa combed through the paper for more spelling errors (she didn’t find any) and Clarke got back to her sketchbook. Lexa heard the page turn. A new drawing… Lexa would have to ask to see the one she’d just finished.

They worked like this for another hour until Lexa was brought back to reality by a sudden silence. The TV had been muted while they were talking and neither of them had bothered to turn it back on, and the soft scratching of pencil on paper had stopped. 

“What are you thinking about?” Lexa finished typing her sentence before she looked up at Clarke. “You’re staring.”

Clarke snapped out of whatever she’d been thinking about. For a second Lexa thought Clarke was going to brush it off. “I was just thinking about this.”

“This?” Lexa started typing a new sentence. This wasn’t going to be a conversation. Clarke mused like this all the time about absolutely nothing. 

“This. Our… whatever this is.”

“Friendship.” Lexa sighed and closed her laptop. Her hands folded over it for a moment before she moved to put it on the coffee table and she turned her head to look at Clarke. “It’s called a friendship.”

“Exactly. And that’s what makes no sense to me.” Clarke copied Lexa and closed her sketchbook. Lexa thought she just barely caught the subtle shading and curl of her own hair on the page before it disappeared.

“How does it not make sense? We’ve been hanging out nearly every day. You’re a good study buddy.” Clarke was a terrible study buddy. But that wasn’t the point. How was this even a conversation? Lexa very much liked what they had going on. She didn’t want it to end, or god forbid, change. And, if she was being candid, she might admit that she prefered Clarke on her couch like this to what it had been only a month ago. With Anya. 

“Lexa.” Clarke sighed. “I made what I thought of you perfectly clear and all we’ve been doing is studying.” Lexa’s eyes widened slightly, unsure of what exactly was happening, a look which Clarke obviously noticed. “Look. I like you. Remember when we had that conversation? You called me out? Cause I remember.”

Lexa nodded slowly. 

“Good. I like you. Do you like me?”

Lexa nodded again. 

“Well then for fuck’s sake. Why have we been studying this whole time? Why haven’t you crawled across this damn couch and kissed me yet?” 

“Wait. I thought that whole flirting thing was past tense.” Lexa squinted when she thought. (Clarke found it adorable, but she wasn’t about to say that out loud.) “You haven’t said anything since. I thought that was… past tense.” She finished the sentence weakly. 

Clarke shifted on her legs, lifting her body to get them out from underneath her. She clearly wasn’t sure what to make of Lexa’s continued issues with flirting, and before she could come up with another exasperated response, Lexa had closed the gap between them, doing precisely what Clarke had suggested earlier. 

Lexa crawled across the damn couch and kissed Clarke.

Lexa had never been good at reading the signs of flirting. She knew that. But she wasn’t afraid to take the leap when the time came. When she knew for sure that she wouldn’t be turned down. And this was that moment. Well… realistically any moment over the past two weeks probably could have been that moment.

Her lips touched Clarke’s softly, but not tentatively. She used the stiff shock that registered in the other girl to take the sketchbook from Clarke’s hands and placed it carefully on the coffee table next to her laptop. When Lexa’s hand found its way back from the sketchbook and onto Clarke’s cheek, Clarke finally responded eagerly. 

She pushed Lexa back, away from her. Suddenly afraid that she’d read it wrong, Lexa would have broken the kiss if it weren’t for Clarke’s hand at the nape of her neck, holding them together. Lexa fell back against the back of the couch and Clarke wasted no time in climbing into Lexa’s lap, her legs straddling Lexa’s. 

What Lexa really needed to not think about was that this was exactly the position that Clarke had been in the first time she’d seen the blonde in her apartment. And if Lexa were to spare even a moment’s thought about that, she might admit that she much preferred that she was the one underneath her this time. 

Lexa tugged on Clarke’s lower lip with her teeth, eliciting a moan from the blonde that may have also been, at least in part, to the way she’d just splayed her hands across Clarke’s thighs, and dragged them back to cup her ass, tugging their bodies closer. Clarke’s hands though… Clarke’s hands were everywhere. Delicate touches on Lexa’s sides moved up quickly to run through her hair and everywhere else in between. 

Lexa teased the hem of Clarke’s shirt between her fingers, attempting to work up the courage to feel for even a touch of bare skin in between feverish kisses. But before she could, Clarke’s hand moved behind her to stop them. 

“You’ll have to buy a girl dinner first.” Clarke whispered the words against Lexa’s lips before dropping a soft kiss upon them, her hands cupping Lexa’s face tenderly.

“I know for a fact Anya never bought you dinner.” Lexa’s nose brushed against Clarke’s, not entirely on purpose. Her fingers tangled with the blonde’s. 

“I didn’t want what was happening with Anya to last.” Clarke made sure that Lexa understood what she was saying because clearly being anything less than blatant hadn’t been working for Lexa. “So tomorrow, instead of sitting here, you’re going to take me out.”

“Are you asking yourself out for me?” Lexa smiled and shook her head. 

“I’m not waiting another two weeks for you to realize that’s what we both want.” Clarke laughed. “Just think. If you hadn’t been such an idiot, we could have been doing this for weeks.” Clarke murmured the words into Lexa’s shoulder before she kissed her way back up to take Lexa’s lips in another searing kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr is the same as here... smaugthedesolator. drop me a line :) Thanks for reading.


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